8 Gone is the Witch

by Dana E. Donovan

  “She’s got it,” said Carlos. “Leave her alone. She’s nervous. Just let her do it.”

  “Okay, fine. Ursula, just take your time. Go slow and good luck.”

  She didn’t reply, but that was okay. I had rather she devoted her concentration to the task at hand than on my words.

  She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the bridge. As she crossed those first few boards, I thought of Dominic, how he would just as soon carry Ursula across the bridge himself than to let her do it on her own. Sadly, she would probably let him.

  But I sensed that Ursula’s time was coming. I could see it. Change was in the wind. She had come far in her short time on Earth, on our Earth, and no thanks to Dominic.

  I sometimes believe that Dominic would prefer I sent them both back to the seventeenth century if I could. He seemed to revel in the idea that a woman’s place was in the home.

  What he failed to see, and what Ursula was beginning to realize, was that by stifling her thirst for shared independence, he risked surrendering it to her altogether.

  “That’s it!” I yelled, as she neared the one-third point. “You’re doing great. Remember those rotten boards!”

  “Aye!” she hollered back. “Thanks be for thy warning, lest I forget and dance the steps yet taken!”

  “Wha... what was that?” I turned to Carlos. “Did she just smack sarcasm down on me?”

  “What, Ursula? Noooo.”

  “All right. Now that was sarcasm.”

  “Ooh, look! She fell!”

  I spun about on my heels with my heart in my throat.

  She was fine.

  “You ASS!” I screamed, hitting him on the chest with my open palm. “Why did you say that?”

  He grabbed his chest and staggered back to catch his balance. Jerome saw what was happening and quickly scooted behind him, palmed the small of Carlos’ back and propped him back up before he fell. I grabbed his arm to help steady him.

  “Carlos, what the hell? Are you all right?” Jerome and I both helped him take a seat on the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean––”

  “It’s okay. I’m all right. You knocked the wind out of me. I’ll be fine. Just let me catch my breath.”

  “Carlos, I didn’t mean it. Honestly, I didn’t think I hit you that hard.”

  And I didn’t. I knew I didn’t. That is, it wasn’t a hard hit for a healthy old ox like Carlos. The problem was that he wasn’t a healthy old ox anymore. He was just old. Ursula thought Carlos was aging much faster than the rest of us. Looking at his face, really looking, I knew she was right. For the first time since arriving in the ES, I began to think that not all of us were going to make it out alive.

  “Hey!” Tony called over from the other side. Ursula made it across, and they could see that something was wrong at our end. “What’s going on over there?”

  I stood up and hollered back, “It’s Carlos. He––”

  “Fell down!” said Carlos, loud enough for Tony and Ursula to hear. He managed to get back on his feet without help and brushed himself off. “I’m fine. Just fell down, is all.” He dismissed the incident with a wave. “No problem.”

  “Are you sure?” I said.

  “Yes. Now come on. Stop worrying about me and get your butt across that bridge.”

  “Maybe you should go next.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Just saying.”

  “No, you go. Besides, I gotta keep my eyes on poco culo here. Make sure he doesn’t touch the ropes and collapse the bridge.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll see you on the other side.”

  I turned to face the bridge. It suddenly seemed a lot further across than it did just the minute before. I don’t know why. There was no wind, no swirling mist to obscure my view and distort my vision. Just a simple walk across the devil’s gorge. I clasped my fingers together, abating the instinctive urge to grab the ropes as I started across.

  Then I heard it. I looked back over my shoulder. Carlos and Jerome were looking back over theirs.

  “What was that?”

  Carlos waved me on. “Nothing, just keep going. Quickly!”

  I took another step and heard it again, a low, reverberating rumble distinctively animated. “Carlos? Tell me that was your stomach.”

  I didn’t turn around. Something told me not to. I knew I didn’t want to see the look on his face. He came back on a whispered shout. “Keep moving. Hurry!”

  I fell into a run of baby steps, landing sure-footed on each of the planked sleepers so I wouldn’t risk a misstep. Tony and Ursula were waving me over from the other side, their frantic gestures confirming that they heard the menacing rumbles as well.

  At the one-third mark, I reached the rotten boards that Tony warned us about. One of them cracked beneath my left foot; another broke away completely beneath my right. I stumbled, but didn’t reach for the ropes.

  “Come on!” Tony yelled. He stood with the tip of his foot touching the last sleeper; his knees bent and braced, his hand outstretched, ready to take mine the instant I reach him. “Hurry!”

  I have to say, he wasn’t helping. Did he think I’d stop for a leisurely look out over the side of Hell’s Canyon and take pictures? I thought of flipping him the bird, but that would have meant unclasping my hands. Of course, then I could have flipped him two birds. It might have been worth it.

  I continued, though I admit the last three steps across the bridge were just a blur for me. I remember reaching for Tony’s hand. He grabbed it and yanked me onto solid ground, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket. I hit the dirt rolling and ended up in a fetal position wedged against one of the anchor lines securing the rope bridge.

  I expected Tony would come to me and make sure I was all right. He didn’t. Instead, he returned to the base of the bridge, his foot firmly planted against the last sleeper, his hand once again outstretched. This time he waited on Jerome.

  The frog-mouthed midget had started his crossing and already past the one-third mark, clearing the broken sleepers.

  Meanwhile, the low rumbling I first heard while crossing the bridge had graduated to a booming roar. It echoed through the canyon, making it difficult to confirm its origins.

  Back on the other side, Carlos stood poised to start crossing the moment Jerome finished his. Tony called to him, told him not to wait, but Carlos wouldn’t listen. Whether he didn’t trust Jerome not to drop the bridge, or didn’t trust the bridge to carry them both; I don’t know.

  What I do know is that he kept looking over his shoulder with greater frequency, convinced that whatever was coming, was coming quickly.

  Ursula and I fell in behind Tony, ready to usher Jerome aside the instant he stepped off the bridge. Carlos, perhaps sensing his margins were slimming, began edging out onto the sleepers like a baseball runner leading the bag. As soon as Jerome hit the dirt, Carlos started across.”

  That’s when it appeared.

  “Mother of gawd!” Tony cried. “What is that?”

  Jerome pointed to the beast across the chasm. “Saurocedus!”

  “The dragon?”

  “Yes. Dragon.”

  “You said it was sleeping.”

  He shook his head. “Saurocedus wake now.”

  “Yes. I see that.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Carlos! Run!”

  Carlos was doing all right until Tony yelled for him to run. Naturally, he had to turn and look to see what the hell was chasing him. At that point, he was barely a third the way across the bridge. He took his eyes off where he was going and plowed his foot through the rotten sleeper board. His momentum carried him forward, dumping him flat on his face.

  “Get up!” we cried. “It’s coming!”

  Man, was it ever. The creature, which for the record, looked more like a walking tree stump than a dragon, emerged from the shadows and started into a clumsy trot. It utilized four appendages to run, two muscular back limbs, and two massive front limbs that seemed to double as both arms
and legs.

  Two additional, though smaller, limbs protruded from below its shoulder blades. Those appeared more agile. Both appeared jointed at the elbows and terminated in razor sharp claws four inches long. Its tail, long and lizard-like, grew thick at the base and tapered to a narrow point at the end.

  We called again. “Carlos! Get up!”

  The fall had knocked the wind from him completely. He had managed to crawl only a short distance after freeing his foot from the broken board. Though he could move, he could not move fast enough.

  “I’m going after him,” said Tony.

  “No!” I pulled him back, and in that moment of hesitating we allowed Jerome the opportunity to slip past us and run out onto the bridge.

  The little fucker was quick, too. Quicker than Tony ever would have been on his best day. He reached Carlos in no time. I saw him shake the end of his spinney tail at Carlos, who then wrapped his hands around it, interlocking his fingers for a better grip.

  Jerome turned around and started trudging back, dragging Carlos along the wooden sleepers on his belly. He made a noble effort, but his progress proved negligible at best.

  “They’ll never make it,” I said. “Carlos is too heavy for him.”

  The saurocedus was nearly at the bridge, moving three times faster than Jerome and Carlos. Ursula cried for us to do something. Tony unsheathed his bayonet and stepped closer. Jerome looked up and motioned for him to stay back. He then looked over his shoulder at the saurocedus. Already, the monster was at the foot of the bridge.

  Time had run out.

  What happened next is one for the books, perhaps one for a whole stack of books. While I stood there, half in shock and half in denial at the thought of seeing one of my dearest friends eaten by a fucking tree stump, Ursula barreled past me. She body checked both Tony and me, knocking us on our asses. She then planted her feet on the first sleeper, positioned her hands over the ropes and latched on tightly.

  The ropes immediately sagged into a perfect U, sending Carlos and Jerome sixty feet into the gorge. She waited until the stretch had bottomed out before letting go of the ropes. The bridge snapped back instantly, catapulting the two high in the air and up onto the ground behind us.

  “Son of a bitch!” cried Carlos. “Do you have to keep doing that?”

  We ran to them. Jerome was fine, even smiling. I’m not sure, but I think he enjoyed the ride. Carlos, I’m afraid, was a little worse for the wear and tear.

  “Are you all right?” Tony helped him to a sitting position. “You hurt?”

  “I’m all right, nothing’s broken.”

  I said to Ursula, “Girl, you’re a genius. How did you know to do that?”

  She smiled shyly. “`Twas Jerome what showed me, no touch-no snap.”

  “What?”

  “I get it,” said Tony. “Yesterday, the bridge sagged after only touching the hand ropes, and without any weight on it, it returned to its original position slowly.”

  “Yeah?”

  “The next time it happened, Carlos was still on the bridge when he touched the ropes and then let go.”

  “Oh, I see. Touching the ropes with your full weight on the bridge causes it to snap suddenly when you let go.”

  “Exactly, you have to be on the bridge for it to work that way. Otherwise it returns slowly.”

  Carlos said, “Yeah, but couldn’t you have catapulted the creature instead?”

  “The creature!” I cried.

  “Yeah.”

  “No. I mean the creature. It’s almost across the bridge!”

  “Quick,” said Tony, “somebody grab the ropes. Drop the bridge again!”

  Ursula was closest. She ran up and confronted the beast just as the two reached the last sleeper. It reared up and lashed out at her with its claws. She reeled back, narrowly escaping decapitation while feeling its bile breath on her face.

  Jerome ran in and threw his spear at the beast, lancing its throat. Tony charged with his bayonet and buried it in its stomach. The creature rolled back on its hind legs, giving Ursula a split second to plant her foot on the sleeper and grab the ropes.

  The bridge buckled, sending the saurocedus down with it, but it didn’t fall into the gorge. Carlos and I hurried to join the others. We all stood there, looking over the edge, our hearts pounding wildly.

  Tony said, “Now what?”

  “Should I let go?” asked Ursula.

  “No!” I yelled. “Don’t let go.”

  “She can’t hold him there forever,” said Carlos.

  Tony said, “She won’t have to. Looks like it’s climbing back up.”

  The saurocedus, it turned out, was an excellent climber. Using the wooden sleepers as ladder rungs, it managed to climb halfway up the steep incline in a matter of minutes.

  “Do something!” Carlos shouted.

  Tony turned to me. “Zip ball?”

  “Yeah!”

  We spun up a couple of quick ones and pitched them over the edge, hitting ol` super sourpuss right in the face.

  Now then, in my day, I’ve seen zip balls do some amazing things. I’ve seen them blow holes in walls (always a hoot at parties), seen them fry sensitive high-tech electrical components that the government claimed were non-intrusive observation equipment (yeah right), and I even saw one cause a Northeast regional blackout once. Although in my defense, 1965 was a wild time for witches and mortals alike. There was plenty of blame to go around for that one.

  Still, in my wildest dreams, I’ve never imagined a zip ball could cause a biological entity to grow twice its size after getting hit in the face with one. Yet that’s what happened. The son of a bitch fell back a few rungs, shook the sting from its eyes, and then swelled up like a puffer fish. It didn’t appear to be in any pain. Just pissed. I didn’t think that was a good thing.

  I backhanded Tony on the chest. “Any other bright ideas?”

  We looked back into the chasm. The saurocedus had begun climbing again; hand over fist, clearing six to eight rungs at a time. We edged back instinctively, all except Ursula, of course. She couldn’t move. We left the poor dear holding the proverbial bag, so to speak.

  I was just about to suggest we all start running, when Tony pulled his bayonet and began hacking through the ropes, starting with the left handrail.

  Carlos saw what he was doing, pulled his bolo and began hacking away on the right. Meanwhile, the saurocedus was making quick time of its climb and was already a mere twenty feet below us.

  Jerome and I collected the biggest rocks we could find and started pitching them down at the beast. They did little to slow its advance, until one of them hit it in the eye. It stopped and let out a baritone roar that shook the ground beneath our feet.

  “That’s it!” I told Jerome. “Forget the rocks. Throw dirt.”

  The saurocedus had unusually large eyes, probably better to see with in the dark caves. Unfortunately for it, they made for easy targets. We set up on either side of the bridge and began shoveling fistfuls of dirt down in its face.

  Meanwhile, Carlos and Tony were making good time slashing away at the ropes. They had cut through the top pieces and started working on the sleeper lines.

  Ursula, now holding just the cut ends of the handrails, needed only to remain standing on the first sleeper to keep the bridge from snapping back.

  Though Jerome and I continued throwing dirt, we couldn’t stop the damn thing entirely. It still managed its way to the top of the ladder. It slashed blindly at the sleeper where only Ursula’s tiptoes now rested. Its screams and intimidating roar had us all wanting to abandon our positions, though none of us did.

  To drive it back, Carlos and Tony alternated jabs with their knives; two at the creature’s flailing arms for every one they took at the ropes. Each time they cut into the saurocedus’ flesh, the beast would pull back and drop a rung. Yet, each time it dropped, it seemed more determined to come back quicker and meaner.

  “Got it!” Carlos yelled as he cut through the last of th
e ropes. The bridge immediately twisted ninety degrees, swinging down and away from his side of the anchor plate.

  The damn thing still managed to hold on. It made one last attempt to grab at something solid on land, and when it felt Ursula’s ankle, it latched on tightly. She screamed and Carlos immediately brought his bolo down on the claw, severing it.

  Tony let out a primal grunt as he finished slicing through the last of the lines and then dropped to the ground in exhaustion.

  I heard the whiplash of ropes pulling away, the clatter of sleepers stacking against one another in a domino effect, and then finally... nothing.

  It was over.

  The end of the bridge fell into the gorge. We never heard anything after that. No roar, no ear-piercing screech. Not even a whimper.

  We stood and gazed across the chasm in silence. We could see the bridge still tethered to the other side. Following its long vertical lines down the face of rocky wall, we could also see that the saurocedus had not held on.

  I put my arm around Ursula’s shoulder and pulled her in close. “You all right?”

  She leaned her head against my chest and nodded.

  I looked up at the others. “Everyone else all right?”

  Carlos and Tony nodded.

  “Jerome?”

  He smiled up at me, his gyro studded eyes unblinking through the swirl of dust we had stirred up in the commotion. “Jerome hungry.”

  “You are?”

  He bent down, picked up the saurocedus’ severed claw and presented it to me. “Good eats.”

  I patted him on the head and smiled back. “Emm, yum. Knock yourself out, fella. You’ve earned it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After resting awhile to catch our breaths, we picked up and headed out again. We followed a well-established path paralleling the chasm, something I’d rather not have done, but the fact it was well established indicated it was the only common sense choice.

  The trail seemed ancient in the way the ground had worn down so smoothly, the rut of a billion footsteps so precisely carved to conveyer belt width and dressed in a gemstone finish. It made me wonder who traveled the path before us and why. Was it blazed by some lost civilization, or simply a migration route for prehistoric creatures like the saurocedus?